


Anemone

by ccaleb_widogast



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, letting go, spoilers up to episode 49, spoilers up to episode 52
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 11:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18164375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccaleb_widogast/pseuds/ccaleb_widogast
Summary: When Caleb sees Astrid again he is struck speechless. Her eyes are the same piercing blue as they always were, just like Caleb’s are, but the light he saw and loved behind them is gone (or was it ever really there?).Caleb does not look at any of them when he hears her call out to him for the first time in fifteen years.“Bren…? Is that really you?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was struck with a line of thought one night that I had to put down on paper, so to speak. A drabble turned into a full-fledged one-shot, and here we are. This is unedited and has no beta, but I want to publish it anyway both for myself (I actually wrote!) and for anyone who will enjoy it. 
> 
> There is no particular area of canon that this fits into, other than that it's in the vague future from episode 55 (with spoilers from episode 49) and for the sake of some spells utilized, I assumed the party would have reached level 9 in-game by now. I try my best to write DnD style combat into the narrative so that it flows, but can still be parsed out as a combat scene that could happen in a session-style setting.
> 
> (Anemone: the flower has multiple meanings; the ones I focus on are "forsaken or forgotten love and affection," and "the death of a loved one or the loss of them to someone else.")

When Caleb sees Astrid again he is struck speechless. She looks just the same and yet so utterly different that he finds himself meticulously parsing out the differences in a split second as he feels his heart stutter and his limbs grow heavy with shock. Her hair is cut to the same practical, short length that it was fifteen years ago, like so many men in the Crownsguard cut theirs. But now, instead of looking boyish and sometimes able to pass _as_ a boy, her features are decidedly feminine, although angular. Apprentice robes that were always a little too big have been replaced by tailored robes in the colors of the Empire, fit for a war mage.

And her eyes, well… They are the same piercing blue as they always were, just like Caleb’s are, but the light he saw and loved behind them is gone (or was it ever really there?).

She is a weapon of the empire, standing before them in splendid robes with a sculpted staff and jewels about her neck and wrists that glint more to Caleb than regular rubies and diamonds should. No longer does a fellow student and lover stand before him. In a split second, as his heart pounds and fog clouds his brain, Caleb knows that this woman belongs to Trent Ikithon and that there will be nothing here for him to say to her.

Her sharp gaze shifts into shock, confusion, excitement, despair, and back to confusion in rapid succession as she recognizes him. Caleb does not spend time beyond that looking at her; his eyes slide down to the ground at her feet and he backs up a couple of steps before he even realizes what he is doing.

He knows that this is bad, he knows that he needs to tell the others _who she is that she’s dangerous that she’s going to take him away that she will hurt them if they try to stop her_ \- but he can only feel his head pounding in time with his heart, can only think about how she looks just like she did when they were kids - except they are not kids anymore.

Nott and Beauregard are in front of him, watching her warily, and Jester is behind him. Fjord, Yasha, and Caduceus are elsewhere fulfilling their part of the assignment.

Caleb does not look at any of them when he hears her call out to him for the first time in fifteen years. He does not want to see their faces when they realize she knows him. He finds himself looking at the ground in a panic and grasping his scarf tightly.

“Bren…? Is that really you?”

His heart hurts. His head is spinning and his chest constricting and he feels his face crumple against his will as his eyes prick with tears. Breathing harsh and starting to gasp, Caleb forces himself to look up and meets the gazes of his friends looking back at him. He forces himself to be grounded in those faces, in Nott’s wide-eyed shock and concern and Beauregard’s guarded anger and suspicion. He looks to his side to see Jester has come up next to him and is frowning at him with an expression of pure worry and support.

“Bren,” says Nott very carefully, as if it was hard for her to say it, and Caleb is thankful that she does not call him by the name he has chosen to go by for the last year. “Do you know her?”

Caleb is unable to avoid looking up at Astrid. Her sharp eyes are still wide and flitting from each of his friends to the next before they settle on him and he can see her calculating. But she also looks stunned and relieved. His heart pounds in his ears.

“Astrid,” he says quietly, shakily.

There is a collective intake of breath from his friends. Beauregard’s wary posture drops subtly into a defensive stance and Nott follows, though she is watching Caleb for any sign of actual danger. Jester simply moves closer to Caleb, a cool comfort at his side. His friends don’t trust anyone working for the Assembly ever since their visit to Felderwin. An old… friend of Caleb’s makes no difference. Perhaps, he thinks faintly, that makes things worse.

Hearing her name makes her rock back on her heels. She pales as it is confirmed, once and for all, that Bren Aldric Ermendrud stands before her. He is dirty and has long hair and a beard, and his clothes are like nothing he would have ever worn at the Academy. But he stands before her. And Caleb can tell that she is torn two ways between relief and shutting down to follow a procedure that must have been drilled into her brain since the day he was put into that asylum so long ago.

“Bren,” she starts, and her voice is genuinely strained, “what are you doing?”

Caleb’s heart clenches and he closes his eyes and does not answer. He hears her step forward and hears Beauregard slide one foot forward with a low, “ _Nuh-uh,_ ” and all steps stop.

“Why are you traveling with these people?” she asks. “Where have you _been_ ? You’ve been missing for _six years_ , Bren. We have been worried sick.”

 _He_ feels sick. He opens his eyes again with a grimace and sees concern written on the faces of everyone in the hall. That is even worse than anger or hatred or disgust. Why couldn’t she just believe he was the lowlife that she believed the rest of his friends were (they were not, none of them were, but that was beside the point)?

“I have nothing to say to you right now,” he says slowly and methodically. His voice shakes and his accent is thick. He feels like he will start stuttering like a madman if he says anything more.

“You have everything to say to me!” Astrid shoots back, waving a hand out in a general motion. Silver sparks follow her hand. “You aren’t well, Bren. You need to come back to us.”

“C- _Bren_ ,” says Jester, eyes flitting between Caleb and Astrid. “What is she talking about?”

No, no, he doesn’t want this. Not with Jester here and Astrid watching him like a hawk, calculating right under her concern. “I told you once upon a time,” he says carefully, “that my eyes were opened to the truth by that… that woman.” He looks at Beauregard and then at Nott, hoping they remember. “I believe… if you asked certain other parties… what happened to me, that you would get a different answer.”

He looks at Astrid again, who is frowning.

“I cannot go with you, Astrid,” he says.

She grimaces and he can see the pain that is actually present there and feels his heart ache in response. “We can help you, Bren,” she says, and she is pleading now. Her shoulders drop and she looks to the side, composing herself. Her head tilts up in a manner that Caleb recognizes from her as one she would do whenever she felt the urge to cry but overcame it. He feels his chest tighten in response and thinks of all of the times when they would cry together after their training. He wishes he could show her the lies that they had both endured and help her get out of the life that she surely does not love. But now, after fifteen years of servitude to Ikithon, he has no idea what would happen to her mind if anyone tried to help her.

He feels tears, hot and wet, well up and spill down his cheeks as he sinks to his knees. “You cannot help me.” He shakes his head. “We were lied to, Astrid. Altered, tricked, and cursed. Tortured and made to murder. We can never be forgiven for that. You cannot help me.” He feels Jester kneeling beside him and a cool arm wraps around his shoulders. He leans into her.

“We were made to be the next great mages of the Empire,” Astrid protests, holding her staff out as if it is proof. “We did what we had to, to make sure that _no one_ would pose a threat.” Her eyes flash with a great passion that Caleb remembers loving so dearly. He remembers feeling that same passion.

Now, he is just tired.

“Whatever these people have told you, they’re lying,” Astrid continues, her face a broken, pleading mask. “You can’t let treachery get to your heart, Bren. You were better than this. We overcame the manipulative actions of traitors from all sides _together_. If you came with me, we could help you find your place again.”

Jester’s grip tightens protectively. Nott is standing in front of the two of them with her crossbow now drawn and pointed steadily at Astrid. Beauregard stands as ready as ever to Nott’s left.

Caleb has his friends here. The tears slip down his cheeks as a sob is ripped from his body. He has his place here already, he realizes. He sees Astrid’s resolve sliding up over her anguish and he wonders which one is the mask. He feels his heart breaking into too many little pieces to count as he lets Astrid go. But his resolve is falling into place as well and he wipes away the tears and steadies himself on one knee.

Astrid recognizes his expression and Caleb recognizes the curse she utters in Zemnian as she realizes that he isn’t going with her. “Bren, I am so sorry,” she says. “I am so sorry it came to this. You would have been the strongest of us all.”

It feels like worms crawling through the broken pieces of his heart when she says that, and he finds he would rather not have been in that place.

But there is little time to think of much else because Astrid has twirled her staff once and pointed it directly at him. The icy blue _Chromatic Orb_ passes just over Nott’s head and Caleb sweeps one hand up from the ground to bring up a _Shield_. He is up and scrambling backwards with Jester right beside him a moment later.

Nott has loosed her crossbow bolt, but in her surprise over the sudden spell, the bolt goes wide and whistles past Astrid’s shoulder. The mage hardly spares a glance to the goblin. Her eyes are on fire and focused on Caleb. She steps forward steadily and is already lifting her staff again. Cold magic is gathering at its focus and Caleb feels dread curl in his gut.

“Nott, Beauregard! Fall back!” he shouts. Nott immediately backpedals until she is on his left and flanking him with Jester. Beauregard hesitates, a snarl frozen on her face, but she backs up as well after just a second.

“Can we take her?” asks Jester desperately, casting a glance behind them all down the hall. It will be a long way out if they try to run now.

“Not without putting our lives on the line,” Caleb says back swiftly. He is already reaching into his component pouch for the phosphorous. “Stay back and keep me safe.”

Astrid doesn’t realize what he is doing as he stands and streaks his hand along his palm. (A weakness of some mages who use focuses, Caleb thinks. They should all know what components create what spells, regardless of how they cast their them.) She grimaces at him and plants her staff on the ground before her. Their spells release almost simultaneously, but Caleb is grateful that his _Wall of Fire_ ignites just a fraction of a second before a _Cone of Cold_ erupts from Astrid’s staff. The cold is dispelled into steam by the wall, obscuring the area even more. Caleb ignores the furious shout from the other side of the wall, where Astrid seems to have lost the rest of her composure.

“All these years, and you still use fire? Is this some kind of sick punishment for yourself, Bren? Did you know I haven’t touched a vial of poison in over fifteen years? I don’t understand you!”

But Caleb has no time to respond. His time is short and he is back on his knees with the specialized chalk he had purchased not a week ago in hand. As he begins the minute-long process of casting his _Teleportation Circle_ , he says to his friends, “When I am done, you have to go through, immediately. There will be a chance that she will be able to follow us. I cannot let that happen to you.”

“Do you expect us to up and leave you here to deal with her alone?” asks Beauregard incredulously. “Fuck that! If one of us stays, we all stay.”

“Beauregard, I promise you that I will be close behind if I can help it,” Caleb protests as he continues to scrawl frantically across the marble. “It is just the nature of this spell to stay open a certain amount of time, in which she might make it through as well. I am the only one who can tell when the circle is about to close, though. So I must be the last one through, at the last possible moment.”

“Caleb, we can’t just leave you,” said Jester desperately.

Caleb cut her off almost instantly. “You aren’t leaving me; I will be right behind you. I do not have time to argue with you. Get ready.”

He feels the _Wall of Fire_ fade at almost the same time that he finishes the circle and lays his palm flat on the activation sigil. The lines light up in a brilliant gold and a flash of arcane flame leaps into the air at least six feet. The flame freezes in place and then rips outward in both directions. A portal has opened in the middle of the circle.

Caleb shouts at his friends to _go!_ and frantically whips around just in time to _Counterspell_ a streak of lightning aimed at him. Nott is the first one to go through, nodding to Caleb with a fierce and trusting look. Jester hesitates, looking back at Astrid, who, visible again, looks furious and desperate now that she can see that they are trying to escape. Jester grasps Caleb one more time and he feels a pulse of radiant energy flood through him and then push out all around him. A faint, glowing sheen covers him from head to toe.

“This will make it harder for her to hurt you,” Jester promises. Then she steps forward and disappears through the circle.

Beauregard shakes her head. Her gaze is intense and determined, but behind the determination, Caleb sees fear. He nods to her. “Get your ass in here quick, okay?” she says. He nods again, and she steps through.

Caleb knows Astrid won’t follow them and is only here for him. He waits while she walks steadily closer, her staff at the ready, and feels silently for the link to the circle and calculates how long he has. Seconds. But she could follow him in seconds.

“I am sorry, Astrid,” he says, hoping that she can hear the genuine pain in his voice.

She is already weaving her next spell as she walks and Caleb recognizes this one from his own repertoire. He cannot counter it in time and braces himself to have to break free from _Earthen Grasp_. But the sheen of radiant energy around him flares and he sees Astrid’s eyes flare with the same energy. She lets out a pained shout and the spell releases into thin air.

Caleb has already smeared the molasses across his cheek and cast _Slow_ on Astrid before she has time to recover. “I am so, so sorry,” he says, quieter, as he steps backwards into the circle.

The last thing he sees before the circle closes around him is pain and anguish in two piercing blue eyes.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jester and Nott are by his side, calling his name - his new name, the better name - and checking him over for wounds. Caleb is faintly aware of Beauregard stepping up to the invisible wall to explain their sudden arrival to Yussah Errenis. Caleb's breath is coming in gasps and hitches; he feels as if he’s been broken into a hundred pieces. But he doesn’t have time to wallow in his past, nor can he allow it to overcome him. Caleb has been broken into many pieces for the majority of his life now. He should be used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, another 2,000 words came to me today, so I decided I'd throw it up before my nerves get the better of me. That being said, please don't hesitate to point out any grammatical errors and such! I had no beta and read through it a couple times for editing purposes. 
> 
> If I keep the muse alive and well, I might post more. But I'm labeling this as a complete fic because I can't guarantee this plot thread will ever go anywhere.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Caleb steps out of the portal at the same time the door to the circular room opens. He glimpses the robed figure beyond tracing glyphs in the air that linger with streaks of the arcane and then there is a ripple in the air between Caleb and his friends and the door. Caleb thinks he recognizes a  _ Wall of Force _ , though he doesn’t yet know the spell himself, and the logical side of his mind notes that he would do the same thing within his power if he had sudden and unwanted guests.

But he isn’t feeling very logical right now and he finds that he’s back on his knees again, and this time Jester  _ and _ Nott are by his side, calling his name - his new name, the better name - and checking him over for wounds. Caleb is faintly aware of Beauregard stepping up to the invisible wall to explain their sudden arrival to Yussah Errenis. His breath is coming in gasps and hitches while Jester rubs his back. Nott pats him gingerly around the face and chest and hands, still checking for any sign of injury.

“I am not hurt,” he finally manages to mutter. This is technically true, even though he feels as if he’s been broken into a hundred pieces. But he doesn’t have time to wallow in his past, nor can he allow it to overcome him. Caleb has been broken into  many pieces for the majority of his life now. He should be used to this. It’s just another day.

He hauls himself to his feet and meets the gaze of Yussah, who is as unreadable as he was the first time they met. But there is a glint of approval there that Caleb can’t quite place, be it at their escape or at his accomplishment of the spell. The older wizard nods and flicks his hand in a dismissive gesture. The air ripples again and the buzz of magic in the room fades to only the faint pulsing of the circle they still stand on.

“Come,” says Yussah. “We’ll have some tea.”

They follow him out of the teleportation room and he leads them down the spiraling stairs. Caleb remembers this path and watches his friends look side to side as if trying to figure out the layout of the tower. He knows they never will.

They exit the stairwell in the same sitting room that they all met Yussah in. There is a kettle already hanging over the fire and a small gesture from the elf conjures a  _ Mage Hand _ to carry the kettle to the low table settled between the couches.

Jester sits down and curls up in the corner of one couch where she is grasping her holy symbol and concentrating on it. The symbol glows bright for a moment and then settles to a steady pulse. Jester frowns in thought and then carefully says, seemingly into thin air, “Caduceus, we’re safe, but we’re in Yussah’s tower. We had to run away from a powerful mage. Please tell me you’re okay?” Her breath almost appears to frost with her words. The essence of her message disappears into the air as the  _ Sending  _ spell takes effect.

Beauregard sits down next to Jester and the tiefling leans into the human gratefully. She jumps slightly when she presumably receives a response from Caduceus, but then smiles in relief. “They got out okay, guys,” she says. “Caduceus says to just keep in touch.”

Caleb collapses into a chair next to Jester and Beauregard. Nott crawls up onto the chair as well and perches on the armrest. He doesn’t even notice the cup of tea when it is passed to him by magical means, but simply grasps the mug and lets the warmth seep into his hands and ground him.

Yussah is studying them with an unreadable expression. He takes a sip of tea. Finally, he speaks, his tone as unreadable as his features. “This powerful mage seems to have left you all more shaken than a standard encounter. Is that correct?”

Caleb doesn’t blame the others for being unable to  _ not _ look at him simultaneously at that moment, but he still wishes the chair he sat in could swallow him whole as Yussah turns his intense gaze on him. “Mr. Widogast, could it be you weren’t as forthcoming with me when we first met?”

Caleb averts his gaze and takes a gulp of his tea to give his shaking hands something to do. He can feel Nott’s sympathetic eyes on him and Beauregard’s wary concern. He sees Jester watching him too, concerned but confused. She doesn’t have the whole story, though he doesn’t doubt she’s pieced some things together. Caleb wilts in place and resigns himself to the pain of throwing his heart onto the table before them.

“The mage we encountered is named Astrid,” he begins, looking down into his tea. “She was… a classmate of mine… at the Soltryce Academy.” He flinches as he says it and glances up at Yussah, but the elf simply sits back in his seat and nods slowly. Caleb takes the queue to continue and adds, “We trained specifically under Trent Ikithon. I… had a falling out with them, and I have been on my own for several years.” He stares at Yussah intensely and sees his expression finally crack to something amounting to wariness. “You see why I might not advertise where I received my education.”

“I do,” replied Yussah. He is frowning now. “You have taken measures to protect yourself from their sight, but your friends don’t have the same liberties. You are in a dangerous spot, Mr. Widogast. Once you leave my tower, your old classmate will be able to find your friends, even if she cannot locate you.”

Caleb touches his chest where the amulet is underneath his clothes. He frowns down at his hand. He should have known it would come to this, and it’s stupid of him to think that he could get away with it for too long right under the Assembly’s nose. And now, because of him, his friends are in danger of being captured or killed by Ikithon. He feels his face twist into a snarl at his own stupidity.

He is pulled from his thoughts by a tug on his sleeve. Nott is still crouched next to him and her eyes are piercing as she pokes him steadily. “We’re in this together,” she says simply. “We can figure this out.”

“Of course we can!” Jester pipes up. “Can we get something like whatever it is that Caleb has so that we can’t be found either?”

“Proof against detection and location is simple enough to enchant, but it requires high quality gems to bind to,” Yussah explains. “If you wished to commission what Mr. Widogast has, you would be looking at… about 400 gold pieces per amulet.”

Jester rocks back with a grimace. “I don’t think we could afford more than two of those…” she says sadly. Then she perks up again. “Oh! But what if we already had the gems?”

Yussah somehow manages to make his exasperated shrug look graceful. “I am not a merchant of magical artifacts. You should take your bartering to one such person.”

He stands up as he says this and sets his tea cup on the table. The others, recognizing a pending dismissal, stand as well. Caleb is slower to get up. He is still reeling from the entire evening thus far and staggers to his feet like a drunkard, slow and awkward.

“You may rest here for the night,” says Yussah. “In the morning, I will provide you with another sigil.” This is directed at Caleb. “This one will take you back into the Empire, though it may still be a day or two to travel to Zadash.” Caleb nods numbly. It’s better than more than a week of travel back up from Nicodranas.

They follow Yussah into the spiraling stairwell again. He leads them upward by what feels like only a one or two stories. He comes to a door that wasn’t there when they came down from the teleportation room and stops there.

“This guest room will serve you well enough for tonight. When you awaken, the stairs will lead you back to the sitting room where you can wait for me if I am not already there.” He opens the door and gestures for them to enter. “We can talk more in the morning. Good night.” He leaves them on the stairs and continues to ascend, disappearing around the curve in seconds.

Beauregard is the first one to enter the room, followed by Nott, then Jester, who looks back at Caleb with concern written clearly on her features. He smiles wearily at her and follows her into the room. It is a tidy guest room with two beds, reminiscent of a nicer tavern. A basin sits with water already in it on a small table next to the hearth, which has a fire crackling away within.

Acting automatically, they go about their evening business, silently acknowledging the heaviness in the air and need to talk, yet not wanting to break the tension. Caleb sits on one bed with his boots removed and his coat hanging on a hook by the door, book harness hanging with it. His hand goes to the amulet again. He takes it out from under his shirt and looks at the pendant, studies the fine gem and crafting. He is halfway through a semi-conscious ritual casting of  _ Identify _ when a familiar weight settles next to him and he is jostled out of his thoughts.

Beauregard doesn’t hug him or lean into him or anything like that. She just sits down next to him and looks at him, her features serious. Caleb realizes that everything is blurred and swipes at his eyes to wipe away the tears that have gathered there again. He sniffles once, a short hiccup, and looks back at Beauregard.

“I’ve put all of you in such grave danger,” he says brokenly. “I don’t - don’t know if we can pull this one off, ja?”

Beauregard’s frown sharpens into something furious and passionate. She grabs Caleb by the shoulder and squeezes. “We’re not going anywhere, Caleb,” she states firmly. “We’re in this together. This was going to happen eventually, because you and I both know that we’re here to take down the Assembly. We’ll figure it out.” Her frown twists into a sharp grin. “We’re the Mighty Nein, Caleb! We can always pull it off.”

A wry smile plays on Caleb’s lips and he places his hand over Beauregard’s, anchoring himself in her touch. Jester and Nott sit across from him on the other bed, close together and nodding their agreement with Beauregard.

“Are you going to be okay, Caleb?” asks Jester with a tilt of her head. “She… Astrid… was very close to you, wasn’t she?”

His heart pangs and he closes his eyes and nods. “Ja, she was… one of the other two selected for Ikithon’s experiments. But that is why she cannot be trifled with, either. She will stop at nothing to capture me and that puts all of you in more danger than you were already in.”

“We’ve been to Ghor Dranas and back and survived,” says Nott. “We saved Yeza and didn’t even get caught. If we can infiltrate the Xhorhasian capital, we can do this, too.”

Caleb slumps forward with a short laugh. “Well, you aren’t going anywhere, I suppose. This isn’t going to be easy.”

“It never is,” Beauregard said simply.

They sit in companionable silence while Caleb feels his chest loosen up just a little bit. Maybe he can feel some pieces of his heart coming back together, and he basks in the warmth that spreads from his chest with the feeling. His friends are with him and he has more friends waiting for them back in Zadash. He isn’t alone anymore. Maybe he doesn’t have to be, at least for now, to reach his goals.

He lets the warm thoughts of his good friends lull him to sleep as they finish settling down for the night. With Nott curled up against his back while he watches the embers of the dying fire, he lets himself relax. These are good people, he thinks. And they aren’t going anywhere any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where might this go if the plot thread stays in my head? Probably another discussion with Yussah about figuring out how to get everyone amulets like Caleb's. Reuniting with the rest of the Mighty Nein. Actual confrontation with Astrid and Trent? Who knows. I'm running blind, here. But I hope you enjoyed it, regardless!

**Author's Note:**

> This was spurned from the initial thought that I bet Trent Ikithon has handled Caleb's case in whatever manner he can to assure that he could successfully get Caleb back while still maintaining his manipulative hold on his current pets. It's entirely likely that, to Astrid, Caleb lost his mind with agony when he murdered his parents, and was placed in the asylum for his own safety (you know, since he didn't have a family anymore). With no context, it would look like the work of a madman that he murdered one of the attendants there and then disappeared off the radar for six years. To her, a childhood friend (lover?) was lost and then escaped and she may want nothing more than to bring him back safely so that he can be taken care of. 
> 
> If she ever encountered Caleb on her own and wasn't acting under orders to kill on sight, she'd probably try to plead with Caleb to come back to get the help she thinks he needs, before resorting to violent measures to capture him. 
> 
> Anyway, if anyone liked that and is actually interested in seeing the decompression of those four after they get away, let me know. I might add a little sequel. And lastly, if it wasn't clear, Caleb just added Teleportation Circle to his book, so there's only one place he could have possibly teleported them to, that place being Yussah's tower.


End file.
